Christmas is over, Mr. Santa
1470 Words
Chapter Three
Sophia’s POV
The ambulance’s siren was deafening.
I stood in the porch, watching Caroline cry her eyes out as Ethan was placed on a stretcher and rolled into the van.
My grandmother stood by her side, comforting her, while I just watched the scene with a blank expression.
Serves him right.
I didn’t regret what I did, and I wasn’t going to let anyone guilt-trip me.
Just as the ambulance pulled out of the driveway, disappearing down the curve of the road, the moment everyone was waiting for began.
“Do you see what you’ve done, Sophia?” Caroline’s voice sliced through the cold air. Her wedding dress was stained with blood, her makeup streaked down her face, mixing with her tears.
“This is all your fault!” She screamed, pointing at me.“You ruined my wedding before it even started” she continued.
I couldn’t bring myself to believe that she would get mad at me for defending myself. Her accusations and curses kept rolling out of her mouth, painting me as the villain.
I had enough.
I could only tolerate so much.
“How dare you blame me for this?” I snapped. “I never wanted to be here in the first place, YOU forced me!”
Gasps erupted through the gathered crowd.
“So what?!” Caroline’s low bun came loose she shook her head. “Is it wrong for me to want my little sister at my wedding?! Do you think you’re above everyone because you’re a celebrity?!”
I bit my tongue, my hands balling into fists at my sides.
“I knew you always ruin things, but I let you come regardless, now you put my fiancé in the hospital!”
“He assaulted me!” I yelled out of pure frustration, fighting the urge to pull at the roots of my hair. “Do you think I would attack him without a reason?”
Caroline let a humorless laugh. “You’re unbelievable. Ethan would never do something like that.
It was no use. Talking to her was like talking to a brick wall.
I scoffed, my lips curving into a taunting smirk. “If anything, you should be thanking me for not letting you marry trash like—”
My head snapped to the side as Caroline’s hand cracked across my cheek.
The sting of the slap was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the ache blooming in my chest.
“Get out.” She sneered. “I never want to see you again.”
*****
I would have left the minute she said so, but after the incident, Ethan’s family reported me to the police, and now I sat in the investigation room.
The officer flipped through a report with a bored sigh.
“You celebrities think you can do anything,” he muttered. “So, Miss Benson. You’re saying the groom assaulted you?”
I stared at him. “Yes, he did.”
He clicked his tongue. “Hmm. The problem is, your sister says otherwise.”
My stomach twisted.
Humiliating me in front of everyone is one thing, but she went as far as testifying against me?
I hate to say I’m not surprised.
“Look,” he continued, leaning in, tone turning sly, “We can sort this out without any noise. No press. Nothing.”
I arched a brow, even when I knew what this was leading to. “What does that mean?”
The man stroked his beardless chin, setting the file aside. “We just need a little compensation, like a push of encouragement you know?”
I wanted to laugh. I had seen this too many times to count.
“Like hell,” I scoffed, crossing my arms against my chest. “I’m not paying you to cover up something I didn’t do.”
His eye twitched, but before he could say anything else the door burst open. Another stone-faced officer walked in, holding a cordless phone.
“Boss, it’s urgent,” he said to the man interrogating me.
The officer rolled his eyes and snatched the phone. “Yeah?”
After a few seconds, he straightened up in his seat, the color draining from his face.
“Yes sir,” he saluted while on the phone. “Right away.”
The call ended, and he faced me again, but this time with a schooled smile on his face.
“Miss Benson,” he cleared his throat. “You’re free to go.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Everything’s been dismissed.” The man stood to his feet, averting his gaze from mine. “You should thank your husband.”
A cold, sharp wave slammed through my chest.
No.
No, no, no—
My jaw clenched, and I bit my lip so hard it bled.
“Damn it.”
That man….
My so-called husband.
The one who had no business touching any part of my life.
He still had people watching me.
Sylvester William.
The owner of Silver Pictures is my agency. A renowned billionaire heir. And the father of my child.
Without a word, I stood and grabbed my coat, walking out of the station with every step fueled by a mix of fury and dread.
The cold air slapped me the moment I stepped outside, and I raised my hand, desperate to flag a taxi, desperate to get away from everything—my sister, this city, and everything else.
I just wanted a peaceful life with my daughter. But in the end, I was circling in a maze curated by Sylvester himself, and he never failed to remind me.
A yellow cab pulled up.
I slid inside, shut the door, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
“Where to?”
That voice….
My head snapped up, seeing that the taxi driver was none other than Dante.
Was this a mere coincidence or was he stalking me?
“You’re staring at me like I’m a stalker,” he let out a breathy laugh, almost as if he read my mind. “Don’t worry, this is just another one of my odd jobs.”
I pressed my forehead against the cold window, exhausted. “So Santa by night taxi driver by day?”
The engine roared to life, and I met his gaze through the rear-view mirror.
“Life’s tough, not everyone is married to a billionaire,”
I knew he meant it as a joke, but it still left a bitter taste in my mouth.
That was the last thing I wanted to hear. Especially from him.
“Hmm.” Was all I could muster.
The ride back to the lodge was silent, and I didn’t know when I fell asleep.
It wasn’t until I felt the soft tremor of a heartbeat against my ears, feeling like I was floating in the clouds.
I cracked one eye open, and a gold rosary glinted in my line of vision. I recognized it immediately, knowing it could only belong to one man.
“Dante?” I mumbled, half asleep.
“Oh, you’re awake?”
I snuggled in his arms, heaving out a relieved sigh as I took in his honey scent.
Wait…..
In his arms?
My eyes shot open, heat bursting in my cheeks the moment I realized he was carrying me up the stairs. He carried me princess style, like we were newlyweds or something.
“Hey put me down!” I jabbed at his chest, but his grip on me only tightened. “Dante!”
“Remember how I used to carry you like this to the nurse’s office in high school? You always faked an injury to get out of PE.”
Gosh, he was totally ignoring me.
“That was years ago! We’re not in high school anymore!”
“Keep your voice down Soph, you’ll wake Mona.”
I paused at the nickname, my cheeks growing hotter with each passing second. My gaze drifted to the window, and I saw that the sun had already set.
For just how long was I asleep?
Finally, we reached my room, and he gently placed me on my feet.
I huffed, taking a step back to put some distance between us.
“Christmas is over Mr. Santa. Go home.”
My breath caught in my throat as Dante closed the distance between us, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
He glanced upwards, and I followed his line of sight.
My lips parted in awe.
There was a mistletoe hanging from the doorway, one that I never noticed until now.
Our gazes met, and I watched as his lowered to my lips.
“I can’t leave yet,” he muttered tentatively, referring to my last remark. “I have some late gifts to deliver.”
- Writer
